


Lotus

by MessyInsomniacBookGirl



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Misha Collins - Fandom, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternative Lifestyles, Artists, Character Study, Drama, F/M, Fluff, GISHWHES, Humor, Past Relationship(s), Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, RPF, Relationship(s), Romance, Smut, Weirdness, artist, it’s not Misha’s, street artist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:43:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13654548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessyInsomniacBookGirl/pseuds/MessyInsomniacBookGirl
Summary: Misha becomes obsessed by a street artist named RAAS, when said artist participates in GISHWHES and then proceeds to leave their own challenges and bread crumbs for Misha to solve and follow. This leads to a wild goose chase, throughout the US, Canada and Europe. RAAS keeping one step ahead of Misha the entire time, until RAAS makes a mistake.When Misha and RAAS finally meet, sparks fly.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but my OC.
> 
> I make no money from this.
> 
> This is my Sandbox. I love my Sandbox. :)

**Prologue**

 

_ First week of August 2016, Misha’s house, Bellingham, WA _

 

There was a soft knock on the door of the improvised office in the improvised GISHWHES headquarters, aka the study of Misha Collins’ house in Bellingham, WA. 

Soft snores continued undisturbed by the insistent knocking.

Due to scheduling mishaps at the rental agency, the usual GISHWHES office and warehouse spaces in Vancouver, were now rented out to a accountancy firm, and the GISHWHES team had suddenly found themselves homeless.

With two days to go until the start of the Hunt, Vicky, Misha’s ex-wife, had suggested that she and the kids could relocate to their house in LA so the team would be able use the house in Bellingham as a makeshift base. 

It would also give both Misha and Vicky some much needed breathing space from each other, after their mutual decision to end their relationship of almost twenty-six years. They’d been more like friends and roommates, raising their kids together, in the past two years, than husband and wife, and, after much consideration, it was decided that they would keep living in the same house as much as they could, raising their kids, but to end any and all physical relations and to quietly set their divorce in motion; giving each other the space they needed to build a life without the other. 

Although it caused a deep sadness in both parties, they knew it was the right decision. The love was still there, but the passion and physical attraction had been dwindling for years, until it had fizzled out like a burnt up candle. The last time they’d attempted to make love had been a disaster, which had ended in almost hysterical laughter from both sides, and it had led to a deep conversation about what they wanted out of the future. It turned out they still thought the same about a lot of things, but they came to the conclusion that they would be better off, apart. The break-up was both a bitter-sweet goodbye to their previous life and relationship, and a hopeful start of their future one.

Only a week before GISHWHES was scheduled to start, they had signed the final divorce papers, and their co-parenting agreement, at their solicitor’s office. Because neither of them contested the other’s rights to their children and both of them were in complete agreement on the divorce _and_ their living arrangements, it had taken only a couple of months to get everything finalised. 

Another knock on the door was heard, this time it was quite a bit louder, and the occupant of the study startled awake in the office chair behind the desk. Misha groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, his stubble rasping against his palms. 

They were on day four of GISHWHES, and he’d had almost no sleep during the past three nights. Too many things needed his attention. He checked his watch and saw it was seven fifteen in the morning. He concluded that two hours of sleep in an office chair, and the resulting crick in the neck, would have to do for today’s rest. Maybe he’d be able to squeeze in a nap in the afternoon. 

‘Misha?’ One of his assistants opened the door and hesitantly looked into the study, looking for the Overlord.

‘Yeah, Steven, I’m up. Whassup?’ He yawned and stretched his stiff muscles; popping his shoulder blades, as he tried to work out the crick in his neck.

The door opened wider and Steven stepped into the office, carrying an opened laptop.

‘It’s about one of the teams… There’s a problem.’ Steven’s tone was hesitant.

Misha sat up, slightly alarmed by the other man’s tone.

‘Nobody died, did they?!’ 

Steven shook his head.

‘No… Well… Kinda…’ He grimaced.

‘What?! What do you mean? **_Kinda_**?!’ Misha’s heart started pounding from the adrenaline that suddenly poured into his system.

‘ _Nobody_ died from participating in GISHWHES, Misha. But, well, just read this.’ Steven put the laptop on the desk and pulled up the info on the GISHWHES team. 

Misha read it through, heart still pounding. Team RAAS. Fifteen members, eleven women and four… either men or women, the first names were too unisex to determine, all from different locations around the globe.

‘It doesn't look like anything is wrong. Normal team, right amount of members. What is your point, Steven?’ As the adrenaline left his system, he became a bit grouchy. Time to make some fresh coffee and drink the whole pot in one sitting, he thought.

‘Fourteen of the people in this team are dead, Misha, and one doesn't exist.’

‘How can they be dead if they registered for GISHWHES? And how the fuck did you come to the conclusion that they are dead?’

‘Well, the team has been highly productive, but they’re bending the rules and regulations as far as they can bend them, without breaking them, working through a few loopholes as they go, and they have taken a very loose and interpretative creative licence, when it comes to completing items on the List.’ 

Steven pulled up the photo’s the team had sent in, and Misha leant forward in awe when he saw the results.

‘Add that to the fact that their pictures and film clips are of a tremendously high standard, and the items created, are of, like, professional artistry, and there is always only one person in the pics… The same person… Well, let’s just say, it raised a few red flags with people at headquarters and I decided to look into the team. Did a few checks on a couple of members.’

Misha clicked on one of the film clips and found himself mesmerised by the colours and lighting of the setup. It felt like a mini-movie. Of twenty-five seconds. And Steven was right, all photo’s and clips featured only one woman. 

A beautifully built woman, at that. Her features unrecognisable, because her face was painted in pixelated squares that kept her features artistically hidden. But that’s the only thing that was hidden. 

In most of the pictures and clips, she was almost naked, wearing only tiny, tiny, knickers. She was usually body-painted to blend in with the colours of the background or painted a shocking white to stand out; her face always obscured. But still… Naked… Unless the assignment explicitly said to use clothing. 

Misha chuckled, when he saw that team RAAS had sometimes only put the items listed on her and nothing else. He admired the gutsy behaviour; the woman was, more often than not, streaking through crowded public places with not a stitch on. Only the paint on her body between her and the outside world.

Steven cleared his throat when Misha got a bit too distracted by the photographs, pulling the man’s attention back to himself.

‘Turns out, according to Google, all team members are bad-ass women that history ‘forgot’. Spies, Soldiers, Resistance Fighters, Scientists, Swashbucklers, Pirates, Politicians, hell, there’s even a female Samurai and a Mongol Empress in the mix. The thing they all have in common? They’re dead… and mostly forgotten. 

'Except for this Ashakiran Armistead. And she, or he, doesn't exist. What I gleaned from Google is that Ashakiran is a Sanskrit name that means ‘ray of light’ and Armistead is the old English name for a hermit’s cave or house. Other than that, there’s nothing on him or her.

So, that’s when I Googled the name RAAS. And this is what I found.’

Steven pulled up the results on the laptop, and showed Misha the most recent result on the internet, that had RAAS and GISHWHES in the tags.

Misha’s eyes widened as he looked at a drone-made film clip of a small town, in a rural area. All the rooftops were a riot of colour and as the drone flew into position, high up in the air, the rooftops came into alignment, showing a graffiti artwork that spelled out: 

**_HAPPY GISHWHES, MISHA!_** **_XO RAAS._**

‘Holy shit!’ He exclaimed, laughing; raking his hands through his hair, making it stick out in every direction. What a stunt. And on that scale. Holy shit indeed. 

Taking in account the surrounding countryside, it had to have been early spring when the clip was made. The RAAS team’s GISHWHES participation had been a long time in the making, it seemed.

He looked up at Steven, about to remark on this observation, but the man shook his head and gestured to the screen.

‘Keep watching.’

Misha turned his attention back to the screen and saw that the drone was descending again; closing in on part of the S of RAAS. At first he saw only black, but suddenly a pair of stunningly mismatched eyes opened, one hazel, and one a bright, aquamarine blue, looking straight into the lens, while it zoomed in on the figure on the roof. There she was again, naked, painted, incorporated into the black lines that flowed around the letter.

‘Wow.’ He breathed when the clip faded to black. ‘Who are these people?’

‘Well, RAAS is a street-artist. Street art and graffiti are his forte. Who the woman is, we don’t know. We sent an email, with a request for an explanation, to the address that was given at GISHWHES registration, and he sent back a video file. We received it only fifteen minutes ago.’

Steven clicked on the video file that was attached to the email RAAS had sent back.

The video faded in, the focus a closeup of the face of a male figure in front of a black background. He had a black hoodie on, the hood up over his hair and his face covered with a black scarf and sunglasses. When he started to talk, his voice was distorted.

‘Hello, Misha Collins. I am RAAS. I approve of your altruistic endeavours, and I have decided to participate in GISHWHES, this year. All the stunts and artwork you see in my GISHWHES contributions, have been executed by myself and my muse. I have decided to build my team from the most bad-ass women from history. You didn't state that the team-members had to be alive to participate, so I had some wiggle room there. The women are in every picture and video, in spirit. For they are not forgotten.

'I do not expect to win this Hunt, as I am operating in the dark-grey area that was left wide open in your construction of the rules and regulations, nor do I wish to be unmasked, I like my anonymity. It is paramount in my work, to stay in the shadows. So, please, do not try to uncover my identity. I hope you will keep mine and the girl’s physical traits under wraps and this video within your team.

'I only wish to help the underprivileged in this world, and think that GISHWHES is the way to go.  Happy GISHWHES, Misha. Peace!’

Just before the video faded out, a pair of shockingly bright, mismatched eyes, snapped open behind and just above RAAS’ left shoulder, seemingly staring straight through the lens and into his soul, making Misha jerk back from the screen.

‘Jesus!’ He hissed, and then immediately started to laugh at his own jumpiness. ‘Jump-scare.’ He grinned.

Turning to Steven, Misha let out a breath and shook his head to clear his mind.

‘So, what do we do about this?’ Steven asked.

‘Well, as you and RAAS said, we can't disqualify the team. They’re staying within the lines we drew in the sand… barely, I admit, and they’re digging tunnels underneath, but still, within the lines. And to be honest. I like him. Them. They put a lot of work into the cause and we’re only halfway through the week. I’m very curious about what they will come up with next. I think, as long as they don't endanger other people, I’m fine with them continuing their antics.’

‘But what about endangering themselves? Did you see how high up the girl was on that roof?’

‘I don’t think we can stop them from making those choices, Steven. They are professional street-artists and they know the risks of what they’re doing. More so than most other GISHWHES participants. I say we let them be.’

Steven sighed in defeat and nodded.

‘Okay. I’ll let the team know you green-lighted them.’ He picked up his laptop and made his way to the door; turning back to ask, ‘Do we assign them points for completed assignments?’

‘Hm, only for the ones that are followed to the letter. The ones that skirt the lines? Nope. As they said. They want to participate, not win. So let’s give them what they want.’

‘Alright.’ The other man closed the door behind him and left Misha alone in his study.

Misha rolled his chair closer to his desk and woke up the desktop computer that had fallen asleep when he had.

Quickly he typed ‘who is RAAS?’ into Google. As he pressed Enter, he got a result he hadn't expected. All links spelled out: **_MISHA, NO._**

What the?!…

He rephrased his question. ‘RAAS real name’

Again, **_MISHA, NO._**

How the hell had RAAS gotten Google to do that?!?

‘Street-Artist RAAS’

**_MISHA, NO._**

Misha burst out laughing. It was a full belly laugh and he slapped his hand on the desk in mirth. 

‘Ooooh, I like you!’ He chuckled at the screen.

‘Street-Art by RAAS’ 

**_THANK YOU FOR CHECKING MY ART, MISHA._** Was at the top of the page. The rest of the page consisted of all the same links to RAAS’ street-art.

Misha shook his head in exasperation and clicked on the photo-link that was displayed under the ‘Checking My Art’ header.

It brought him to a site where all RAAS’ work was displayed in High Definition photographs. Some of the work was just funny and light, but other works had a political or societal message. It was quirky and to the point, with more symbolism to be discovered the longer you looked at a picture. 

RAAS was a fabulous artist and a passionate political activist. Using his art to uncover all that stinks in society. 

Wow, the man got around. From the US to Europe to Asia and Australia. His work was everywhere.

And it looked like the man could pull off huge stunts to boot, skirting the legal boundaries and sometimes bending them to the point of breaking, without getting caught by the authorities. Living a life less ordinary and not abiding by societies rigid standards. Misha highly respected that trait in a person. It was how he lived his life. Or tried to, at least.

He was looking forward to the rest of the week even more, now. He couldn't wait to see what else RAAS and his girl had planned, with all the other assignments.

Getting up from his chair, he stretched and went in search of fresh coffee; feeling excited about the coming days.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one... Over 6000 words... O.O

**Chapter 1**

 

7 December 2016, Vancouver Film Studios, Supernatural Set

 

Swinging the big, black messenger bag over her shoulder, she made her way out of the port-a-potty, which was located at a remote part of the film lot of the Vancouver Film Studios. When she’d agreed to accompany her friend Ruth to her job, she hadn’t calculated her need for a loo, to be nearby, into the plans for the day. The nice and warm -and clean!- ladies' toilets were in the main building, almost a mile down the road. too far away for her, to reach in time, from the outside filmset, so she’d just finished her third trip to Toilet Hell. Hell was very cold and dirty, by the way. Fucking freezing and stinky.

Shivering she zipped up the black hoodie she had on beneath the hot-pink down jacket Ruth had lent her to keep warm, pulling up the thick hood over her head to keep as much warmth in as possible. The only downside to borrowing Ruth’s clothing, was, that the jacket wouldn't close over her distending tummy. They used to wear each other’s clothing all the time when they were younger, but because of her pregnancy, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep that up; hence the added insulation of her hoodie over the black sweater-dress and leggings she was wearing. 

At four months pregnant, she was beginning to show. Maybe if she hadn't been such a wee and slender woman it would have taken a bit longer for her tummy to grow, allowing her baby a bit more space in her abdomen, but alas, the lodgings were being deigned too small and baby had started to extend said lodgings. 

She was now visibly preggers. At least, when she was seen from the side and the front. From behind she still was the same build as Ruth. Okay, maybe she had _slightly_ more padding on her legs and hips… and arse… and breasts… Urgh… So, she liked to eat. 

Thankfully the clandestine part of her occupation allowed her to eat what she wanted, and still it kept her at a healthy weight and fitness level, despite her being very close to her thirty-eighth birthday, and having more trouble lately to keep excess weight off.

Which reminded her… That clandestine part… She still had some stencils to use. A certain Overlord to torment.

Grinning to herself, she looked around, spotting the wooden shed she’d noticed before, next to the long driveway that led from the guarded entrance of the filming lot to the main stage buildings. The wood of the shed was smooth and evenly placed, with almost no gaps between the planks.

_Yes! Ideal!_ He’d see it when he drove up in January. Ruth had told her that he, and most of the supporting cast, wouldn't be here for filming, until the start of the new year, when she had casually inquired who would be filming today. 

Quickly, she took off the pink jacket and placed it carefully on the ground, at the side of the lot. No need to get that smeared with paint. She took out the stencils she needed from her bag, and made her way through the bushes as she walked toward the shed. Time was of the essence now. If she was lucky, the painting wouldn’t take more than five minutes to put together. 

Pulling a mouth cap over the lower half of her face, to protect herself and her baby from toxic fumes, and putting on thick latex gloves, she continued to set out her spray paints, and a few paint markers, at the foot of the shed, and picked up the first colour. Holding the first stencil to the shed with one hand, she sparingly sprayed the first layer of paint over the cut outs in the paper. Working fast, she used the five stencils she had prepared, in quick succession; each stencil had cut outs at different locations and she sprayed each one with a different colour paint.

After the last stencil was finished she pulled it away and checked for any drips in the paint. Thankfully there were none. Using a darkish blue paint marker, she coloured in the parts of the eyes that were not in shadow; highlighting the shine of the eyes with light blue and white paint markers. Yay! Painting done. 

Checking her watch, she saw it had taken her just over five and a half minutes to paint his face onto the side of the shed. She stepped back to quickly admire her work. It was a very good likeness of the handsome bastard, even if she said so herself. 

She pulled a large plastic bag out of her messenger bag and bagged all the spray paints and the wet stencils. She wouldn't be able to take them with her so she was going to ditch them in the dumpster she’d seen behind the shed.

She picked up a large silver paint marker with a one inch square flat tip, and added text to the space above the painting.

**_HI MISHA! XO_ **

And then signed the painting in the right bottom corner with her tag.

**_RAAS_ **

Okay, all finished. She dropped the markers into the plastic trash bag, and dumped the lot into the dumpster. Taking off the mouth cap and then the gloves, putting them inside out to catch any wet paint from escaping, she fished a small plastic bag out from the bits and bobs that occupied the bottom of her bag and put both gloves and mouth cap in it. She pushed the contents to the bottom of her bag. Something she learned early on, never leave finger prints and always take away any and all DNA evidence. She’d dump that later, somewhere else. Somewhere not here.

She grabbed her messenger bag from the ground, and walked back to where she’d left the pink jacket. Picking it up she shook it out to check it for dirt, but there was none. Happy that she hadn't gotten her friend’s jacket dirty or damaged, she pulled it on and walked all the way back to the part of the studio lot where Ruth had been filming a few scenes with her on-screen son. At least, Ruth had been doing that when nature had called and she had had to make her way to the port-a-potty from Hell.

The lot was empty. 

Shite. 

Looking around, she tried to listen if she heard something.

Yes, there. Just behind the house facades that had been built to resemble a small town, she could make out voices.

Picking up her pace, she put her hands in the pockets of the jacket, cherishing the warmth of the down filling, and stepped around the corner of one of the facades that was supposed to resemble a church. 

Ha! There she was! Ruth was half hidden behind a screen, talking to Mark -who played the King of Hell, and her character's son-, and the director. 

Suddenly there came a low voice from behind her, saying something about Ruth being a naughty girl for not being in costume yet, and then she was wrapped up in a pair of massive arms and picked up high into the air as she was held against a big, muscled, and, whoah, hard body. A hoarse quack forced its way out of her lungs, as she got the fright of her life, from being manhandled like that. Her arms were mowing through the air before her hands landed protectively on her baby bump, which was being partly compressed by Gigantor’s arms. 

‘Let me go, ye great, big, fuckin’ oaf! Arsehole!’ She squeaked out, grateful that she’d just taken a wee and her bladder was empty, otherwise this would've been a whole other ballgame, if you catch her drift.

The body behind her went rigid as the man realised it wasn't Ruth he was accosting.

‘Oh, shit. Sorry.’ He breathed, as he almost dropped her from shock, and then tightened his arms around her again, before gingerly putting her back on her feet, his hands sliding over her bump as he did so. She heard the sharp intake of his breath as he realised what he’d just done.

‘Oh, fuck, you’re pregnant. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Fuck!’ His voice was a bit panicked as she turned around to look up at him. And up… And up…

‘Jesus feckin’ Christ, yer bloody tall!’ She blurted out as she took in the tall, dark and handsome man that was Jared Padalecki. The man standing behind him started to laugh, loudly, pulling the attention of the others their way. 

“Ren!’ Ruth called out. ‘Are ye alright?’ She ran over to where they were standing and checked Ren for injuries before she hit Jared on the arm. ‘Ye fuckin’ big oaf! Stop showing off yer prowess every chance ye get, and leave us ladies half yer size alone. Ye could've damaged Ren and her wee one. You arse!’

The man behind them laughed even harder as Jared kept stammering his apologies to Ren.

‘That’s what she said!’ He howled as he pointed at Ren and he bent over to catch his breath, leaning his hands on his knees.

Ruth put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

‘Jensen Ackles, you’re not leaving a good first impression on my friend here. I know ye just had yer babies, but that’s nae a good excuse for this behaviour. Get yerself together, man!’

‘Yeah, yeah. I’m trying.’ Jensen chuckled with twinkling eyes. He extended his hand to Ren. ‘Hi, I’m Jensen Ackles, and this bloody tall oaf here is Jared Padalecki.’ 

Ren shook his hand and nodded politely at both men.

‘Hello, I’m Ren Stuart. Ruth’s friend from the UK.’

‘I am so sorry for scaring you like that. You looked just like Ruth from behind, with the pink coat and your hood up… I thought you were her. I hope you’re okay. Are you feeling okay?’ Jared asked as he hunched over a bit, putting his big hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes for the first time. ‘Wow.’ He breathed, as his eyes widened. ‘That’s stunning.’ He shook his head to clear it and gestured to his own eyes with one hand. ‘Your eyes, I mean. Heterochromia, right?’

Ren nodded with a grin.

‘Yup, that’s right. My DNA got a bit jumbled when I was being assembled and, tadaa, creepy eyes.’

Jared laughed, visibly relieved that she wasn't upset, and released her other shoulder from his grip. He seemed a bit more relaxed after her self-deprecating joke. Finally convinced that she was okay and he hadn't hurt her.

Jensen gestured to her hair and her face, grinning.

‘Nice style you’ve got goin’ on, with the eyes and the blue hair and the piercings.’ 

She touched the rose gold stud in her nostril and her bling septum piercing and smiled, sticking out her tongue to show him the piercing with the tiny silver padlock on it.

‘Thanks. If you’ve got the weird, flaunt it, is my motto. Weeds out the arseholes in your life that aren't worth your time.’

‘Oh, wow, you’d really fit in with the crowd of misfits that is the cast of this show.’ Jared said.

‘Yes. That’s what I said, when I met her this morning.’ Mark agreed as he came to stand next to Ruth. ‘Too bad this miss has expressed that she has no interest in acting. She’d make an interesting addition to the show, I think.’

‘So, what is it you do, exactly?’ Jensen asked as he sized her up, possibilities of storylines where she’d fit into the show visibly running through his mind. ‘Because we could always use new blood in this show, especially if it is weird.’

Ren raised an inquiring eyebrow at him.

‘Are you serious? You guys don’t even know if I can act and you’re fitting me into the show? Don’t you have casting directors for that stuff?’

‘Oh, honey, our show works differently from other tv shows. We have a bigger say in what happens and who comes on, than you think. They even let us direct episodes if we are so inclined.’ Jensen grinned cockily.

Jared chuckled and shook his head at his friend’s tries to impress the lady.

‘What he means, is that the Supernatural show-runners, writers, cast and crew are like a close knit family unit. We’ve been working together for twelve years, and it’s the history we all have together that allows us to influence what happens with the show, and who gets on it, to a certain extent. If you’re interested in taking on a role, you’d still have to audition, but the casting director would listen to our input. If you suck, you wouldn't get the part, but if you have potential, well, we could work with that.’ He gave her a friendly, tight lipped smile.

Ruth clapped her hands in excitement, hopping up and down like a little energiser bunny.

‘Ooh, yes, imagine the fun we’d have on set, Ren! Won’t you reconsider?’ A big smile appeared on her face as she turned to Ren.

Ren looked at her friend with a doubtful look on her face.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Ruthie. I haven't acted since college and I’m not really in fighting shape right now.’ She rubbed her hand over her tummy.

‘So, you _have_ acted before?’ Jared inquired.

‘Yes! And she was so good at it!’ Ruth exclaimed. ‘She did a couple of Shakespeare plays at a few local theatres, when we were in art school. Got raving reviews. But alas, she preferred art over dancing and acting. Although she did always use her acting skills to get out of sticky situations. Ye won’t believe how many times she got away from being…’

Ren quickly put her hand over Ruth’s mouth and widened her eyes at her friend in a panicky warning, shaking her head to indicate she didn't want Ruth to spill the beans on her street-artist double life.

‘Sowwy.’ Ruth mumbled behind her hand, realising what she’d almost done.

‘Got away from being, what, exactly?’ Mark asked with a big shit-eating grin.

The other two men also gave curious glances.

‘That’s what I’d like to know, too.’ Jensen said, sounding curious.

‘I was a bit of a wild child in college -so was Ruth, by the way-’ She added onto that, as she pointed at her friend, which made all three men turn to a serenely smiling Ruth, who gave a small wave. ‘and we might have pulled some stunts that could’ve gotten us expelled, but Ruth and I always seemed to be able to talk our way out of those sticky situations she mentioned. Who would think two wee, helpless lasses had the skills to put the dean’s muscle-car on top of the science building?’

Jensen burst out laughing again, eyeing her appreciatively. He put an arm around her shoulders and grinned down at her.

‘I like you.’ He chuckled. ‘If you agree to an audition for today, and if you get a part on the show, I promise you, you can pull all the stunts you want. We are prank central.’

Jared came to stand on her other side and also put an arm around her.

‘Speaking of pranks. We have a coworker who desperately needs to be pranked. It has been too long since he pranked us and we haven't retaliated yet. We would love your input on our ideas, darling.’

‘Yeah, he’s been in this creative war with this dude who calls himself RAAS, for the past four months. It’s taking up all his pranking energy and it’s time to pull his attention back to us. We’re feeling a bit neglected.’

‘Oh… Ummm…’ Ren hummed noncommittally; a current of electricity running down her spine when they mentioned her tag-name. Adrenaline started to course to her body. She side-eyed Ruth, who was now looking at her with a raised brow and Ren almost imperceptibly shrugged her shoulders at her friend.

‘Come on, Ren, Misha needs some of our lovin’ prankerism. Will you lend us a hand…’ Jared trailed off as a dark blue Audi came tearing around the corner and pulled up behind them with screeching tyres.

‘Speak of the devil…’ Jensen mumbled. He let his arm slide from Ren’s shoulders. ’Hi Mish!’ He threw over his shoulder, at the tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered man who jumped out of the car as Jensen turned towards him.

Ren’s wide eyes flew to Ruth’s, who narrowed hers at her friend in suspicion, when she saw the panicked look on Ren’s face.

‘Oh, fuck…’ Ren breathed at the same time as Ruth hissed at her, ‘What did you do?’

‘Something stupid?’ Ren hissed back at her.

Ruth stepped closer to her.

‘Ren, what did you do?’ She whispered.

‘You said he’d be away until the new year!’ Ren whispered back sharply, exasperated, as the nerves ricocheted through her body.

‘Ren!’ Ruth hissed, warningly. ‘Tell me you didn’t do anything here!'

‘Fuck.’ Ren groaned softly, as she kept her face turned away from where Misha was walking towards their group. ‘Fuck fuck fuck.’

Jared had been following their exchange with interest and bowed over to the two women, moving his body so he was blocking Ren from Misha’s view.

‘What’s going on, ladies?’ He whispered conspiringly.

Ren’s eyes flew from Ruth’s to his.

‘I… Um…’ She hesitated for a bit before deciding to let Jared in on her endeavour. ‘I might have upstaged you… Prank-wise?’ She whispered apologetically. Jared hummed in curiosity.

She turned back to Ruth.

‘Sunglasses!’ She hissed.

Ruth looked down to where she had her sunglasses attached to the v-neck of the white shirt she was wearing under a black trench coat. ‘What?’

‘He knows my eyes! He saw them.’ Ren whispered, making grabby hands at the glasses.

‘What? How?’ Ruth asked as she handed the glasses over to her friend.

Quickly Ren put them over her eyes. ‘Tell ya later.’ she mumbled out of the corner of her mouth. Now her eyes were covered, she relaxed a bit.

Jared chuckled.

‘You better. Tell us, I mean.’ he said quietly, before turning around to greet Misha, with a big megawatt smile. ‘Hey, Mish, what’s up?’

‘Where is he?’ Misha’s deep voice sent shivers down Ren’s spine. That voice. Ugh. It should be illegal. Ever since she’d stumbled over GISHWHES, when she was online researching street art and other public stunts, and heard and saw him talk passionately about his charity work, she’d been a goner for his voice. 

‘Where’s who?’ Jensen sounded confused. ‘What are you doing here anyway? You’re not supposed to be on set today. You’re not even supposed to be back until after New Years.’

‘I had to drop something off at HQ and found a message from RAAS. Where’s RAAS? He must be around here somewhere. Did you see him? The paint was still wet…’ Misha’s eyes flashed back and forth as he scanned the lot, searching for something; someone. ‘How the Hell did he get past security anyway.’ He mumbled to himself, rubbing the scruff on his face with his left hand.

‘What paint?’ Jared asked.

Misha held up his right hand and showed the black paint that was smudged on his fingers before handing Jared his phone. Jensen leaned over and hummed in surprise when he saw what was on the phone. Ren stood on her tiptoes to see. There was a picture. Of the painting she’d just made. _Shite. Fuck._

Jared whistled admiringly.

‘Wow, that’s really good, man. Is that… Is that the shed next to the driveway?’

‘Yeah.’ Misha grumbled as he took back the phone. ‘He must still be on the premises.’ His eyes scanned the woods next to the filming lot.

The corners of Jared’s mouth pulled up as he appreciatively glanced Ren’s way. Only  to quickly look away, when he saw her pleading face as she almost imperceptibly shook her head, and he realised what he was doing. Yup, now Jared also knew her secret. Ren sighed to herself resignedly. Then she noticed how Misha was taking in Jared’s face and body language with a keen gaze.

From behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses, she saw the exact moment that Jared’s slip-up clicked in Misha’s mind. His dark blue eyes flew from Jared to her face, taking in her features with a sharp look, lingering on the sunglasses. Then he looked up and took in the dark, overcast sky. His gaze traveled back to her face, taking in the dark sunglasses again, and then he looked back to Jared, who was now so studiously trying not to look at her, it was laughably obvious. How was that guy an actor?!

She internally groaned when Misha turned his laser focus back to her, and then stepped up into her personal space. He towered over her five foot two inch height. It wasn't fair that he was so big, and dark, and broad chested, and with those wide shoulders, and strong arms… _Oh shite_. She was starting to slightly freak out now and grabbed behind her for Ruth’s hand. Ruth wasn't there. The woman had sidled off to the side, when Misha had turned his attention to Ren. Traitor! 

Ren swallowed thickly as she looked up, through the dark lenses of the glasses, into Misha’s narrowed eyes, having to tilt her head back quite a bit.

‘I know each and every person here, except _you_. Who are you?’ His voice was deceptively pleasant and smooth, as he took in her countenance, his focus completely on her face.

‘Um.. Hi, I’m Ren. I’m Ruth’s friend… From the UK?’ 

She heard Ruth make an affirmative noise at this statement. Shite, why did her voice have to go up into a question at the end?! She was better than that. She was the notorious RAAS, who had been able to keep her calm in much more volatile situations than this; who had evaded arrest, time and time again, thanks to her acting talent. She could out-bluff this actor. This handsome… intense… sexy… dark… beautiful… smart… man… oh shite… Fuck those fucking inconvenient pregnancy hormones! 

‘It sounds to me like you’re not exactly sure about that.’ Misha’s hands shot out and, with a gentleness that belied the quickness of the action, lifted the sunglasses from her face, coming eye to eye with her mismatched gaze. He inhaled sharply as he took a small step back in surprise. She could see his pupils dilate as his nostrils widened a bit. Well, that was a reaction she certainly hadn’t expected. An excited and slightly nervous shiver traveled down her spine as his right hand let go of the sunglasses and came up to caress her cheekbone, just underneath her eerily blue, left eye.

‘Are you seeing this?’ She heard Jensen rumble softly at Jared from where they stood to the side.

‘Yeah… Yeah… I am. I… Wow…’ Jared whispered. Jensen hummed low in his throat as if he agreed with Jared’s jumble of stammered words.

What the hell were those two going on about? 

‘It’s _you_.’ Misha’s voice was a gravelly whisper, his hand falling away from her face. ‘How are you here?’

‘Slight miscalculation?’ She gave him a lopsided smile. ‘Oops…’ She got caught red handed and she knew it.

‘Where is RAAS? If you’re here, he must be around here somewhere too.’ Misha frantically let his eyes roam over the lot, and the people in attendance, again, before turning his gaze back to her. His hands were fiddling frantically with Ruth’s sunglasses until Ruth dove forward and snatched them back before he could break them.

Ren was briefly astonished by his words. Her mouth parted in surprise, and if her eyebrows raised up any more they’d be in her hairline.

Wait… What? He hadn't figured out that _she_ was RAAS? Ren’s eyebrows went up in surprise and she heard Ruth cover up a laugh with a cough.

Wow, it looked like she hadn’t been caught after all. He still thought RAAS was on the loose. If she played it right, she might just get away with this. 

But... should she? Was that fair? For him... or even for herself?

Ren looked down, and contemplatively rubbed her baby bump. She sighed. Maybe it was time to put a stop to this prank war they had been playing at for all these months, and come clean. In a few months time she’d be too big and, after that, too busy to keep up with everything they had been throwing at each other, ever since her virtually bursting into his life through GISHWHES. 

It had been a lot of fun, but she had been a step ahead of him each and every time and, if she was honest with herself, she had to admit they were playing a faux war-game with the advantage firmly planted in her favour, from the very beginning.

It was starting to make her feel a bit uncomfortable. At first she’d been elated that a man as smart as Misha had picked up the glove she’d thrown his way, and she’d had so much fun with thinking up challenging riddles for him to solve; keeping just out of his reach every time, giving him only enough hints to keep him interested, but never allowing him to completely catch up.

Maybe today it was the time to let him catch up…

She looked back up at him, and saw that his eyes were locked on the hand that was resting on her distended tummy. 

‘You’re pregnant.’

‘Astute observation.’ She said dryly.

‘How far along are you? Is RAAS the father?’ He asked in a strangely strangled voice as he raised his hand as if to touch her tummy, but at the last moment he dropped it to his side again.

‘I’m four months exactly.’ She answered. He looked up into her eyes and she saw an emotion there she couldn't really put her finger on. Shock and… disappointment? No… Anger? Not really… Hm… Jealousy? What?

‘Since… GISHWHES?’

Ren smiled up at him happily.

‘Yup, she’s a GISHWHES baby. And no, RAAS is not the father. Her father was a short term boyfriend with a faulty condom. An immature bastard who didn't want to have anything to do with the consequences of his actions.’ She saw his eyes widen in outraged shock. ‘Oh, I don't mind him buggering off, when he found out he’d knocked me up, you know. Turned out he was an abusive and immature arsehole. Wouldn't want him around her anyway. And the upside is, she’s all mine now.’ Ren added quickly, trying to diffuse the growing indignation she saw on his face. 

Oh… Maybe telling him that the guy had been abusive, wasn't such a good idea. He looked positively livid. Shite. She needed to distract him.

She took a deep breath and decided to tell him her secret. It was now or never.

‘Misha, I have to tell you something else. About RAAS.’

‘What?’ he barked out as he stared in the distance with a hard look on his face; visibly upset by her story and breathing deeply to try and get his flaring temper under control.

‘Misha, look at me.’ She implored and his eyes drifted back to her. The intensity of that gaze was a bit disconcerting. She folded her arms over her chest to steady her suddenly shaky body. ‘RAAS isn't the baby’s _father_.’

‘Yes, you said that already.’ He sounded a bit exasperated, not catching her hint, eyes scanning the tree line again.

‘RAAS isn’t the father, Misha, because RAAS is the baby’s _mother_.’ She emphasised. Misha looked back down at her and just stared blankly. Then his gaze dropped down to her baby bump. And drifted up to her eyes again.

‘What?’ He whispered, completely taken by surprise. His face was slack with disbelief. 

Well, at least she’d succeeded in distracting him from his anger.

‘Hi, Misha. XO RAAS’ She gave him a crooked grin and a small wave.

Misha stared down at her in silence for a few seconds, expression unreadable, and then rubbed his hands over his face, before letting them travel up to his hair, raking them through it and shifting them to the back of his head, where he folded them together; causing the black, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing underneath a dark red, leather jacket, to creep up over his belly and reveal a sliver of taut skin where his lower abdomen met his hipbone, between the hem of the shirt and the top of his low riding, black jeans. Ren caught the movement from the corner of her eye and did her best not to stare as she stopped herself from wetting her lips with her tongue. _Ugh, stupid hormones_...

He looked up to the sky and took a step back from her. It was quiet for a few seconds and then he let out an elated laugh, followed by a loud whoop. The rigidity in his body relaxing for the first time since he set foot on the filming lot.

He turned his attention back to her, eyes big with wonder.

‘ _You_!’ He exclaimed, a grin breaking through on his face.

‘Yeah. Me.’ was all she said.

‘Oh. My. God. _You!_ You’re a fucking _genius!_ ’ He stepped into her space again, and smiled almost maniacally at her, dark blue eyes suddenly burning with a delighted fire. ‘Who would _ever_ suspect the tiny little subject of so many of RAAS’s works, to be the mastermind behind it all?! No, she’s just some silly girl, dancing to the tunes of her master. The Puppet Master and The Muse. Ha! The Muse! There is no Muse. There’s only the Puppet Master!’ He laughed elatedly as he bent down and swooped her up in an all encompassing hug, her arms automatically circling his waist.

‘Wait… _She_ is RAAS?’ Ren heard Jensen ask Jared as Ruth started laughing out loud at the groan Ren let out because of the tight hug she received from Misha.

‘Yup.’ Said Jared.

‘ _That_ itty bitty firecracker is Misha’s Trickster?’

‘Yup.’ Jared chuckled.

‘The one that caused him to take trains all over Europe in between conventions, leaving him only a few bread crumbs and not much else to take home with him? That one?

‘Yup.’ Jared popped the P.

‘Wow.’ Jensen sounded deeply impressed.

‘Yup.’ Jared said, again, also sounding impressed.

‘I thought that it was a guy.’

‘We all did.’

‘She _is_ a fucking genius. We need her on our team!’

‘Yup.’

Ren snickered into the firm shoulder she was pressed against. Yes, the European trip had been a good hunt. He had almost caught her in Rome, but her climbing skills had saved her from discovery, just in the knick of time.

‘You are so _awesome_.’ Misha whispered almost reverently next to her ear, when he pulled back from the hug a bit, causing goosebumps to erupt on her arms. She was sure he could feel the shiver that coursed through her at his words. His arms tightened around her and she was pulled even further into his embrace.

‘So, there’s… no boyfriend? Girlfriend? Husband? Any other type of significant other?’ He asked softly. She shook her head almost imperceptibly. ‘Nope.’

‘Good.’ He rumbled as his nose traveled from the shell of her ear, over her cheekbone, to come to a stop next to her nose; his stubble gently rasping over her cheek. ‘Can I kiss you?’ 

Her ‘yes’ was almost silent in it’s breathless whisper as his twinkling, dark blue eyes stared into hers, for just a fraction of a second, before they closed and he pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss. 

Ren let out a soft keen from shock, at that first touch of his lips, but then she leaned into him and kissed him back, her arms sliding up his chest and around his neck. Misha buried one hand in the hair at the back of her head and let the other fall down to her lower back, just above her bum, where he spread his fingers and pressed her body fully up against his own. Oh… Oh, wow… Someone was… excited…

Ren moaned into his mouth and opened up to the light pressure of his tongue caressing the seam of her lips; desire pooling hot in her lower abdomen. Misha’s hand slid from her lower back to cup her bum and he lifted her up like she weighed nothing. So strong; the thought flitted through her mind, before she was pulled under again by the sensations of their kiss; the softness of his lips, the taste of him, the pressure of his tongue, his smell. He smelled like cinnamon; her favourite spice… And he was a fucking impressive kisser. When he’d lifted her, she’d automatically bent her knees; pulling up her legs and wrapping them tightly around his hips. 

He growled into her mouth in approval as the hand on her bum tightened it’s grip and he ground her heated core against his arousal. Hard. Oh, God, she was so wet she was sure she was soaking through her leggings.

Through a mist of lust she heard one of the men, she thought it was Mark, loudly clear their throat.

‘Uh… guys… You’re kinda making people… uncomfortable… among other… things.’ Jensen hesitantly tried to interrupt them.

Slowly the pair disengaged their mouths and turned their heads towards Jensen and Jared. Both Ren and Misha were staring at them uncomprehendingly, with lust clouded eyes that cleared a bit when they realised they were being watched. Ren involuntarily snickered at the shocked expressions on Jared and Jensen’s faces, and then threw a highly amused and chuckling Ruth an apologetic grin. Then, suddenly realising what a show they’d given her friend -and a lot of other people-, she hid her face shyly in Misha’s neck, a blush making its way to her cheeks. 

‘Oh fuck.’ she muttered softly, so no one would hear. Except, that the man who held her close, did hear, and he chuckled softly.

‘Oh dear God.’ Mark grumbled. ‘You’re givin’ us Brits a bad name, girlie. Publicly confiscating and defiling the national treasure that is Misha Collins, like you just did.’

Ren let out a laugh at the man’s grouchy, but humorous, comment.

Misha slowly let go of her, and carefully set her back down on her now slightly wobbly legs. She took a small step away from him, but he kept an arm around her shoulders to keep her close by. 

Only now did she notice how the rest of the cast and crew had ceased what they were doing and were now completely immersed in what was happening between Misha and her.

‘Jesus Christ, Misha! Cover that… thing up!’ Jared suddenly exclaimed as he held up his hand between himself and Misha, so he wouldn't have to see how Misha’s penis was crudely pushing up against the inside of the rough cloth of his jeans, creating an impressive bulge.

Jensen made a strangled sound, as Jared’s words had made him automatically glance down, and he then proceeded to quickly look up at the sky, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

Misha threw an unapologetic, toothy, and slightly deranged, grin, Jared’s way and then looked down at Ren with heated eyes.

‘So, wanna find someplace... not here, and… talk about all this?’ He asked quietly, in that deep, gravelly voice that made Ren want to rub her legs together in anticipation. How was this man so fucking sexy? Her hormones were all over the place and she felt like she was going to spontaneously combust if she didn't get a modicum of relief within the next few minutes.

‘Talk, hm? Alright. Lead the way.’ She agreed, and she held out her hand for him to take. He sent her a smile that was simultaneously full of sinful promise and joyful delight. It caused a flutter of giddy nerves to explode in her belly.

‘See you later, guys.’ Misha called out over his shoulder at his friends and co-workers, as he was already pulling her toward one of the buildings that looked like they could have indoor sets set up inside them. Ren threw a small smile and an apologetic wave to the group of people, who were staring after them with different stages of shock and amusement on their faces, and then followed Misha into one of the buildings, the door slamming closed behind her.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actors playing at being psychologists. AKA, the chapter with non-sensical psychobabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a Sand Witch, having a grand time in this Sandbox. :)

**Chapter 2**

 

Outside, the small group of Misha’s coworkers exchanged amused and exasperated looks.

‘Well, that happened.’ Jared said, and Ruth let out a laugh.

‘I’d say so.’ she chuckled. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ren be like that, with a man, though.’ she continued. ‘I mean, she’s quite the freethinker, just like Mish, but to be so…’

‘… horny to the point of starting to dry-hump our friend and colleague in front of literally… everyone?’ Jared helpfully supplied, gesturing to the crew, who, by now, had resumed their tasks.

Ruth coughed.  
‘I wouldn't have put it so crudely, but yes. Like that. Thank you for that mental image, Jared.’ She wrinkled her nose.

‘You’re welcome.’ He grinned; completely unapologetic.

‘She’s never been as forward with a man as we just saw her with Misha. Usually she’s a bit more… discreet, in her dalliances.’ Ruth was both amused and puzzled by her friend’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

‘Must be all the pregnancy hormones.’ Jensen remarked. ‘Man, I remember when Danneel was in her second trimester…’ He got a dreamy look in his eyes, and a lascivious smile played around his lips, before he was brought back to the present by the sudden silence that had fallen at his comment, and saw three pairs of eyes staring at him in different staged of revulsion. ‘What?’

‘Dude. TMI.’ Jared gave a repulsed shudder. ‘Ugh.’

‘Sorry.’ He didn't really sound as if he was sorry, though. Jared shook his head at his best friend, who raised his eyebrows at him and stuck out the tip of his tongue between his teeth.

‘Jerk.’

‘Bitch.’

‘Seriously, though.’ Jared tried to get them back on track with analysing their friend’s behaviour. ‘Misha had an open marriage, but I don’t think Misha has been with anyone else but Vicky, ever since their kids were born, and I know for a fact that he hasn't slept with anyone, since his divorce was finalised.’

Jensen looked up at him with raised eyebrows; surprise written all over his face.   
‘Wait, what? How do you know about that?’ He was surprised by Jared’s knowledge of the fact that Misha hadn't been with anyone since his divorce. He didn't think his friend would have confided in anyone else about that. For all the openness that Misha displayed about anything and everything in his life, he’d always been pretty tightlipped on his relationships.

‘It came up in a conversation a couple of weeks ago, alright?’ Jared defended himself. ‘So, he’s been celibate for, like, at least seven or eight months, and now he’s suddenly all over this woman he’s only just met? What’s with that?’

‘Well, he has been chasing this RAAS all over the world, in the past four months; so, it’s not like they only just met. He has been quite busy with chasing him… her. I mean, he was really, _really_ obsessive about it. Haven't you noticed that? Because I certainly did.   
It got to a point where I thought he would almost explode, from all the built up frustration he experienced, from coming so close to an unmasking, and then being out-played by the man, who had become his very own white whale, over and over again.

‘When I thought it was a guy he was chasing, I figured it was just about dominance in a mind-game, you know. About who’d come out on top, as the winner of their weirdo olympics.’ Jensen shrugged. ‘But now… Looking back at their behaviour… I can’t help but think that these two have been circling and chasing each other for the past four months, because they were attracted to each other’s genius minds and over all weirdness.   
I think it all turned out to be a greater game, and struggle for dominance, than either of them expected it to be, when RAAS started it all.  
Today is the culmination of all those wild goose chases and almost catches. And it was a bit anti-climactic, competition wise. It was an accident that they collided today. A miscalculation on RAAS’ part, as she admitted.

‘From the beginning it has always been about winning the game, for both of them, until it was suddenly all voided, by their meeting today. I saw the way Misha’s body language changed when he recognised her from the videos, and then again when he figured out that she was the genius mind he had been chasing, and losing from, over all those months. Man, it went from curiosity, to deep attraction, to downright alpha male possessive sexual dominance. I’ve never seen him react to anyone like that. Man or woman. Not even to Vicky.  
And, what’s even more significant; there is no winner. No smart mind defeating the equally smart competition.

‘He didn't catch her on purpose, and she didn't really get caught, she bowed out of the game, when she could have just kept Misha chasing a mirage. The fact that she stepped out of the race, has them both in a tailspin right now, and I think that that,’ He pointed at the direction their friend had disappeared in, ‘is a way of them dealing with all the pent-up frustration that did not resolve itself through a win, and it’s a means of finding a new equilibrium, after the shock of the mutual attraction they both suddenly and unexpectedly experienced.’

‘Wow, who made you the resident amateur psych?’ Mark said with a joking sarcasm. Jensen blew a raspberry at him.

‘Still, it’s strange and uncharacteristic behaviour.’ Jared interjected, worriedly looking at the door Misha had pulled Ren through.

‘Dude. It’s Misha.’ Jensen said, exasperated. ‘His brain don’t work like ours.’

‘Seems to me like you understand him just fine.’ Mark teased. ‘Makes one think about the state of your brain.’ He ducked out of the way of Jensen’s hand, trying to whack him on the back of the head, laughing loudly.

‘Guys?’ One of the writers of the episode had approached them.

‘Hey, Brad. What’s up? You ready for us to do a couple of scenes?’ Jared asked.

‘Yes, that too, in a minute, but I had to ask; who was that woman?’ Brad seemed a bit excited about something.

‘Um, that’s was Ren Stuart. She’s Ruth’s friend from the UK. Why?’

‘Well, I was observing you guys and your dynamic, you know, for writing purposes, and I couldn't help but notice how well you guys interacted with her, the timing of your interactions was fantastic. And did you see the chemistry she had with Misha?!’ He seemed so happy about it, it made Jared frown a bit in confusion.

‘Um, yeah, the chemistry, we noticed.’ Jared rubbed the back of his neck. How could they not have?

‘Please tell me she’s an actress?’ The man pleaded, as he was practically vibrating with giddy nerves. It stayed quiet for a few moments.

‘Yes. Yes. She’s an actress. A very good one. Doesn't have too much experience, though.’ Ruth quickly answered, before it stayed quiet for too long. She was still hell bent on getting Ren on the show.

‘Ooh, we can work with that. There are so many storylines that have just veered off the beaten path.’ His eyes were wide with wonder when he looked at them. ‘Talk to her about getting her on board for the show. Get her to audition, and I’ll arrange a meeting for her with the big bosses! I’ll fill y’all in on the specifics later.’ He turned around and started to walk back to the director and his minions. ‘Oh my Chuck, this is so exciting! I need to write a new character! Season thirteen is going to have a few changes. Oh, and congratulations! You just became brothers to a sister! Probably…’ He threw haphazardly over his shoulder.

‘Um, Brad, what is happening?’ Jensen called out to him, a surprised expression flitting over his face.

‘I don’t know!’ Brad countered. ‘Isn’t it awesome?!’ An almost maniacal laugh escaped him as he disappeared behind his laptop computer screen.

‘He can’t just dump that news on us like that, can he?’ Jared stared after the writer with wide eyes.

Ruth looked up at him, wide-eyed from delight.  
‘This will be so fantastic! I haven’t worked with her in almost eighteen years. She’s a delight to play off of; quick-witted and focussed. I’ll get her to agree with appearing on the show.’ She tapped her lower lip in thought. ‘She’ll need a steady income, once the wee one is here. Yes, I think I’ll be able to convince her.’

‘I think I need a drink.’ Jensen sighed.

‘Do you guys even know how utterly screwed we are, if those two evil masterminds in there really got together, and ever decided to band together against us, in a prank-war?’ Mark said thoughtfully, rubbing the scruff on his chin thoughtfully, as he looked at the building Ren and Misha had entered not ten minutes before. His priorities clearly weren’t on the bomb that Brad had just dropped in their midst.

Jensen and Jared looked at each other with horrified expressions on their faces. Jensen let out a choking sound.

‘Oh... Fuck.’ Jared wheezed.

‘Indeed.’ Mark agreed, as Ruth let out a nervous giggle. ‘It’s been great knowing you lads.’ He said in a fatalistic voice, as he sauntered away.

‘We’re all gonna die.’ Jensen bemoaned.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it hot in here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be in my Sandbox. :P

**Chapter 3**

 

The heavy door slamming closed, echoed through the huge building they’d just entered, and it made Ren jump a bit. It was quite loud, and the finality of it grated on her already frayed nerves.

She was feeling giddy, and excited, and confused, and nervous, and scared, and incredibly aroused. All at the same time. 

This, combined with the hormonal imbalance that she’d experienced ever since the beginning of her pregnancy, set her on edge so much, that she felt like she was standing on the edge of a chasm that was crumbling, quickly and irreversibly, and she was tipping over into the void. The cocky confidence she’d displayed earlier, had all but vanished, and she was starting to question any and all decisions that had led her to this moment.

She looked up at the broad back of the man who lightly cradled her hand in his, and who was pulling her further into the building. There wasn't much light, just a few high up windows, which were dirty and let through a drab grey twilight, casting the surroundings in long shadows. Ren could only just make out different kinds of film sets as they passed them.

It was very chilly in the warehouse, and she could see her breath coming out in tiny white clouds. Her breaths were coming fast and shallow. 

Ren hesitantly pulled her hand out of Misha’s.

‘Misha, wait.’ her voice was soft, a slight tremor betraying her inner turmoil.

Misha turned toward her, surprise, and then worry, bleeding through his intensely aroused expression, when he saw the expression on her face.

‘What? Is something wrong?’

‘I… I don’t know…’ She trailed off, her face expressing her sudden uncertainty. Misha stepped closer to her. 

‘What is it? Are you okay?’ He had gone from dominant and aroused, to concerned and warm, in two seconds flat, his hands rubbing her upper arms in a comforting gesture, his eyes expressing worry for her.

‘I… I…’ she looked up into his kind eyes, feeling helpless. Those beautiful dark blue orbs were gazing down at her with such gentleness. Combined with all that had happened that day, and the unexpected rollercoaster of emotions and hormones that ricocheted through her body, it was enough to cause her to burst into tears. 

Misha looked startled at first, but recovered quickly, and wrapped his arms around her.

‘Oh, honey.’ he murmured, his lips moving against the crown of her head as he pulled her into the warmth of his body. Ren leaned into him and brought her hands to her face.

‘I’m sorry, I don't know what’s wrong with me. I’m normally not like this.’ She hiccupped. ‘Ever since I got pregnant, my emotions are all over the place. I cry over seeing kittens on the internet, for fucks sake. And I'm horny, like, all the fucking time. It sucks!’ another bout of tears bursting free.

She tried to extricate herself from his embrace, while she tried to stem the tears, a bit ashamed of her sudden confessional outburst, but he wasn't budging. If anything, it felt like he was folding his body around hers in an attempt to comfort her. She was surrounded by warmth, and strength, and the scent of cinnamon. It made her cry even harder. Fuck if she knew why, though. _Stupid hormones_.

‘Everything is going to be okay, darling girl.’ Misha rumbled softly into her hair.

This made her snort, despite everything, and a half chuckle, half sob made its way out of her chest.

‘I’m not a girl, Misha. Haven't been in a long time.’ she let out a shuddering breath.

Misha pulled back a bit to look at her.

‘What, you’re, like, mid to late twenties, right?’ He changed direction when he saw her raised brow. ‘Okay. You’re right. Not a girl anymore, but… I mean, I’m forty-two… I’m old enough to be your dad. A young dad, but still… Oh, god, I'm a cradle robber.’ He gasped suddenly, his expression was one of shocked revulsion, when he came to this conclusion.

Ren huffed a hoarse laugh; tears stopping, as amusement took over.

‘I’ll be thirty-eight in three weeks, you silly man.’

‘Really?’ His expression held surprise. ‘You look younger.’

‘Yes, really really. I have the passport to prove it. And yes, I get the “you look younger” comment a lot.’ She reassured him.

‘Oh, thank god.’ He sagged from relief, and chuckled softly. ‘For a moment there I was afraid I would have to brave an angry mum with a shotgun for defiling her little girl.’

A bubble of laughter made its way up her chest.

‘Misha, has anyone ever told you, your thought process is whacked?’

‘Yup, repeatedly. I’m off my rocker, according to some.’ He looked slightly worried about her reaction to that statement. ‘I hope that that’s okay?’

‘I like it.’ She gave him a watery smile.

‘You do?’ A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Oh, that delectable mouth. Ren subconsciously licked her lips, and his gaze flew to the movement.

‘Yes, I do.’ She nodded gently. ‘I have never met anyone whose brain works in almost the same way as mine.’

‘Not exactly, though, otherwise I would’ve caught you before today. I think when it comes to thinking outside the box, I can't hold a candle to you.’ He tenderly caressed her hair, and placed a soft kiss on her temple. ‘You are extraordinary.’

Ren sighed and rubbed her face, her hands coming back stained, with black mascara and eyeliner.

‘Shite, I must look like a raccoon.’

Misha chuckled.

‘But what a cute little raccoon you are.’

‘Oh, shuddup.’ She grumbled as she rubbed her fingers under her eyes to remove the black stains; tiny hiccups still shivering in her chest.

‘I mean it. You’re beautiful, Ren.’

She looked up at him and slapped his chest with the back of her hand.

‘Stop it. I look a mess. And this baby is making me fat.’

‘I like messy. Chaos makes everything more interesting, don’t you think? And you can definitely call me intrigued, by the enigma that is you. And you’re not fat. You're just as tiny as Ruth. Were you cast from the same mould, hm? You're just a tiny bit more curvy; slightly more tits ’n ass. I like curvy. All those soft round shapes… Hmmmm…’ He let his hands wander over her waist, and rested them on her hips, where he gave her a soft squeeze.

Ren groaned softly and pressed closer to him; butterflies exploding in her tummy.

‘My hormones are working overtime these days. I’m either in a state of perpetual arousal, -Like, _all. the. fucking. time._ \- or I’m bawling my eyes out. Urgh.’ She complained, and let out a shuddering breath.

Misha hummed quietly in recognition of her frustration, and led her to a big, overly stuffed chair, that was situated on one of the sets. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. She held herself a bit stiffly, until he wrapped her in his arms and drew her against him, her bum resting sideways on his lap with her legs draped over the armrest, letting her head rest in the hollow between his shoulder and his neck. Misha’s left arm was curled around her back and his hand rested on her upper left thigh, keeping her securely in place. She melted into him, relaxing her tense muscles and just enjoying their closeness.

‘How about I help you do something about all that pent up frustration of yours?’ he murmured softly next to her ear; his voice a low rumble.

Ren lifted her head, and raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Is that your way of saying you want to shag me?’

Misha chuckled, the deep vibrations of his voice traveling through her body and pooling as a glowing warmth in her lower abdomen. 

‘Oh, honey, I’d love to _shag_ you, as you so eloquently put it,’ He rolled his hips under her bum and she could feel the straining hardness of his cock, pressing into her through the rough cloth of his jeans. She shivered when he groaned softly and pressed a kiss just below her ear. ‘but I’m not one to take advantage of a woman in emotional distress, and you, my darling, are not in a right state of mind right now, to consent to anything more than a bit of cuddling, and maybe some heavy petting.’ His big hand rubbed slow comforting circles on the swell of her tummy.

She moaned into his neck, and she could feel a tremor travel through his body, betraying his want for her.

‘But I really want to… I feel so… fucking… needy…’ She lamented.

‘I know, Ren. Just let me do this for you. Allow me to help you.’ The hand that was on her tummy, slowly slid downward to her knee, and then up again, to find its way under the hem of her sweater dress. 

‘Is this okay?’ He whispered; his hand traveling up to her tummy again, only this time finding the bare skin under the cloth of her dress, and caressing the skin just above the waist of her leggings, with a feather light touch.

‘Yes.’ her consent was given in a slightly breathless tone. ‘Oh, gods, yes, please…’ 

‘Hmmm, such a sexy little bump.’ Misha rumbled, as he increased the pressure of his caresses a bit. His entire hand spanning the swell of her tummy for a few seconds, before he slid his long dexterous fingers under the edge of her leggings, and then pushed aside her knickers. She opened her legs slightly wider, when his fingers reached her heated core, her breathing increasing, as he cupped her sex and then rubbed his middle and index fingers between her labia, spreading the wetness there along her folds. 

‘Tell me when I do something you don't want. I’ll stop.’ His voice was low and quiet, just above a whisper.

‘Oh _fuck_ , don’t stop.’ she moaned into his neck. She lifted her left hand, and clasped her fingers onto his right bicep, in a bid to keep him going when his fingers found her clit and he started to gently rub the small pearl, coaxing it from its hood. Pleasure shot through her like a lightning strike, and she sucked in a breath from the intensity of his touch. Had she been so deprived of another person’s touch, that it only took a few caresses of his fingers to set her on edge like this? Or was it him -his personality, his countenance, and, god, his scent- and the way he acknowledged her right to choose, or refuse, his ministrations, that had her gasping for more?

Her ability to think straight was fading fast. With each stroke of his hand, she was sucked further into the maelstrom of pleasure that coursed through her body.

‘So wet for me, so responsive.’ Misha groaned, as he tightened his hold on her with the arm that was around her back; hoisting her up against him, so he could press open mouthed kisses to her exposed neck. He bit down gently, and then sucked and licked the spot, causing her pelvis to buck up into his hand and a cry of pleasure to be ripped from her throat. Her body was on fire and it was like he knew instinctively how to stoke up the inferno that raged inside her.

He let his fingers slide down from her clit and his middle finger pressed into her core, slowly inserting itself inside her, until he was buried down to the knuckle at its base. She gasped at the sudden intrusion, and spread her legs wider, in a subconscious response.

As he pulled back, on the upwards stroke, he slightly curled his finger to let it press into the soft, spongy tissue, that was located just inside her entrance, and then started to circle her clit with his thumb. Ren couldn't hold back a guttural groan at the intense pleasure that ricocheted through her as a result of his ministrations. More, she needed more.

On the downwards stroke, he added his ring finger to the first one; pressing into her, stretching her so deliciously that it brought her to the brink of orgasm. She was panting now and soft mewling sounds involuntarily escaped her mouth.

‘Fuck, you’re tight. And so warm and soft and wet. You like feeling me inside you?’ Misha’s voice rasped just above her ear. All she could do was moan in answer, and roll her hips to push herself into his hand. ’You’re so close already. Are you gonna come for me?’ A shiver went through Ren at these words, her pussy quivering around the fingers that were thrusting in and out of her at a leisurely pace.

He moaned hoarsely when he felt her inner muscles contract around him, and his hips bucked into her, thrusting the hard ridge of his arousal against her soft hip, to alleviate some of the building pressure. 

‘Do you have any idea what I want to do to you? How much I want to fill you up? To stretch you wide open with my big, hard cock, and fuck you so deep and hard and fast, that you can’t help but come all over me, again and again and again. Milking me, over and over, until I fill you up with my cum.’ 

He sped up the thrusts of his fingers as he growled the words against her temple, adding more pressure to the bundle of nerves inside her, and speeding up his thumb that was still circling her clit. 

It was enough to send Ren over the precipice she had been teetering on the edge of, and she came with a loud wail as her body went taut and then exploded into a thousand pieces; the pleasure so great that there were black spots clouding her vision. 

Misha kept thrusting his fingers into her, through the convulsions that wracked her core, prolonging her orgasm to the point of her fearing that she would pass out.

As she slowly came down from her high, she was vaguely aware of Misha pushing the bulge that was straining against the crotch of his jeans, into the softness of her hip, one, two, three more times, until he seized up and went still, a barely suppressed grunt escaping the lips that were pressed against her temple. A few shivers wracked his body and then he sagged into her with a deep sigh.

Ren was draped over his lap in a boneless heap, and she reached her hand up to touch his face, lifting her head to look at him and press a soft kiss to his lips. He responded enthusiastically to the pressure of her lips and met her tongue with his in a languid, satisfied kiss.

‘Fuck.’ he breathed into her mouth, involuntarily shivering as he gently pulled his fingers free, from her still contracting vagina, and then removed his hand from her leggings. Ren moaned softly when she felt his fingers slide out of her, and sat up a bit straighter to look at him, as he put his fingers in his mouth and sucked off the fluids of her release. He made a content sound that shot straight to her core, and she shuddered as she felt her pussy clench in reaction. Misha sent her a mischievous smile and pulled his hand away from his mouth to adjust her dress and her hoodie, so that they covered her again.

Misha wiggled his hips under hers a bit, as if he was slightly uncomfortable.

‘Did you just…’ She began.

‘Come inside my pants like a teenage boy?’ He groaned, interrupting her and hiding his face in her hair. ‘That would be a yes… And I’m afraid you're going to have to move, so I can clean up a bit, before everything seeps through my jeans.’

‘Oh, shite, yes, of course, sorry.’ She shot to her feet, her legs still feeling quite wobbly.

‘’s Okay. My own fault.’ He winked at her.

Misha stood and unbuckled his belt, and opened the fly of his jeans. He quickly toed off his shoes, and then took off his jeans, leaving him standing in a pair of dark blue, soggy boxer briefs. They were still slightly tented from his, now waning, arousal. 

When he pulled them down his legs, and bunched them up to clean himself up, Ren saw that his penis was still at half mast. She licked her lips as she stared at him. Misha was definitely not a small man, in any sense of the word.

The hand that was wiping away his bodily fluids from his penis and lower abdomen, with the bunched up boxers, fell still and then away. When she looked up she found him watching her with great interest.

‘Like what you see?’ He asked; a big, almost predatory grin appearing on his face. His eyes a heated, dark blue under thick, black lashes.

Ren could feel a blush creep up her neck and quickly looked away, letting her hair fall into her face, so it was partly hidden. She cleared her throat, which was suddenly dry, and swallowed thickly. Why was she feeling so shy all of a sudden? 

The man had had his fingers all up in her business not ten minutes ago… And how amazing that had been. Shite, she hadn't come that hard in years, and just from his fingers… Definitely something to repeat, and soon, if the other party was so inclined. She smiled at the thought.

 


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more background info on Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing, but Ren.
> 
> I make no money from this.
> 
> This is my Sandbox.

**Chapter 4**

 

Looking back up at Misha, she saw that he had turned away from her, to step back into his jeans, and he was now pulling them back up over his lovely, round, naked bum; having decided to go commando now that his boxers were soiled. The man was definitely not a prude, dropping trou like that in front of her. It was something she liked and admired very much about him. No pretences, or false modesty, and no compromising on his values, no matter how divergent they might be from what average people would call ‘normal’, and the pressure that that brought from the outside world, to conform to the ruling societal standards.

She was the same, when it came to her own life; sometimes _even_ to the horror of her family. She came from a very well to do family, and had had a privileged childhood, with all the chances to study at the best schools and universities.

The fact that she’d thrown that all away, in the eyes of her family, after she graduated summa cum laude from Cambridge -which she had attended after caving to the pressure her father put on her to have a degree in something more practical, before she pursued a masters degree in fine arts. With her double masters in economics and international business, to go to art-school, was seen as a committing a capital sin. 

And when she went on to lead a semi-nomadic lifestyle -oh, alright, she was full-on nomadic as fuck- as an emerging young artist, fending for herself, and not taking any of the legs up they had offered her, into the world of global business -not to mention their knowledge of her having a double life as a notorious street artist-, well, let’s just say that it was severely frowned upon, and it wasn't discussed at family meetings, Christmases, or New Years cocktail parties. Ever.

Her less than conventional lifestyle, was also widely ignored by the high-ranking management team of her family’s global company, Armistead Global; especially during the times her presence was required at board meetings, or when there had to be personally intervened at one of their international offices, and her brother wasn't readily available. The latter task had become an almost bi-monthly chore for her, ever since her father had passed away at the beginning of April.

She had been able to keep from joining the family business, for almost sixteen years, but due to her father’s last will and testament, she was being pulled back in, whether she liked it or not. She had loved her father dearly, but at times he had been a coldhearted, manipulative, bastard. Especially when it came to her falling in line, and joining the company.

Ren, and her older brother, were both appointed as heirs, with equal shares in their father’s global business empire, to the surprise of everyone involved. Ren, herself, had expected that the company would be transferred completely to her brother, but only the day to day running of the company had fallen to him. She was still needed when big decisions had to be made, and it was expected of her to keep up with all recent developments within the business empire, even though she had no say in the day to day dealings. 

She was paid accordingly, but she never really needed that money, other than taking some of it to pay for food, or sometimes international travel, when her own funds -money made from her art- ran low. 

She’d never really needed much anyway. She liked her minimalist lifestyle; it made it easy to pack up, whenever she wanted, and travel, and see the world. She didn't even own a car; or a house for that matter. She had a small, one bedroom, rental flat in Hampstead, North London -the only thing that she had allowed herself to really splurge on-, and that was it.

The lion’s share of the money she made, she added to the trust that had been in her name ever since she was born, and she just saw the mountain of money grow and grow. It was in the mid range of eight figures by now, and no matter how many big donations she made to charities all over the world, those donations didn't even seem to make a dent in it.  But when you laid out that money next to her net worth, based on her owning half of the company, it looked like pocket change in comparison. And that was a scary thought. She was worth tens of billions of British pounds. It was an inconceivable number, and it made her very, very nervous, just thinking of it.

Ren leaned against the arm of the chair they’d just occupied, and observed Misha as he put his clothes to rights and threw the dirty underwear into a bin. She wondered if she’d ever see him again after today. She was sure that he would be off soon, and she would be going back to Ruthie’s, until tomorrow, when she’d leave for Seattle, where she was expected to sit in on a merger meeting for Armistead Global. Something she wasn’t looking forward to. At all. 

Thank the fates it was only that meeting, and then she’d be off for the next two-and-a-half months. 

When she’d arrived in Canada, a month ago -to have a few meetings for Armistead Global, and she then went and visited a few friends, before staying at Ruth’s-, she’d bought a van, which she had had converted into an off-grid camper. It was her plan to disappear for a few months, after this last meeting. 

She’d had enough of her meddling family. They meant well, but they were always up in each other’s business. A family that was even more annoying, now she was pregnant. After the first shock of her daughter turning up pregnant, father unknown -at least, that’s what she’d told her mum and brother. No need to make them worry even more than they already did-, Ren’s mother had embraced the coming of her first grandchild with gusto. 

She’d converted a room, in the house in London, into a luxury nursery, for when Ren would finally come to her senses, and come home to have the baby in London, and stay there for the coming years. 

No matter how many times Ren had told her mum that she wouldn’t give up her life as an artist, not even when the baby was born, it was as if the grandmother to be just didn’t hear her. Or refused to hear her, was more like it.

She sighed, suddenly feeling sad again. She hated seeing her mum hurt, but Ren had her own life, and she wasn’t going to give that up for anything, baby or not. Baby would just have to get used to a semi-nomadic lifestyle. Lots of women travelled the world with their children these days, and she would as well. 

At least when she visited her mum in London, baby would have her own room. She sighed again.

Misha stepped up to her and caressed her cheek to get her attention. She moved her gaze up from where it had drifted to her feet, and looked him in the eyes. There was a small smile playing on his lips.

‘Why so serious?’ He said with a twang in his voice.

Ren snorted and raised an eyebrow.

‘Really? The Joker? We’re in a dark, creepy warehouse and you go with that?’ 

He grinned at her mischievously.

‘Got you out of your funk, didn’t it?’ His deep, melodic voice caused a delicious shiver to travel down her spine. Sheesh, the efficacy of that voice never missed its target with her, it seemed.

Inclining her head, she sent him a crooked smile.

‘Apparently.’ She agreed.

Misha let his hand travel from her jaw to her shoulder and softly squeezed it. His expression shifted from teasing to serious.

‘Are you alright, though?’ He asked solemnly. ‘You looked so forlorn just now. I didn’t overstep any boundaries did I?’

Ren gave him a wry smile and shook her head.

‘You’re fine. No complaints on that front… I was lost in thought. Just having some family trouble, is all. My mum and brother want me back in London for the birth of this little one.’ She rubbed her bump lovingly. ‘And after that they want me to stay for the foreseeable future. Something I’m not too sold on. I like my freedom, and I love my life as it is. I don’t want to be pinned down in one place, for more than a few months at a time. I don’t work like that. I Never did. I need to move, and see, and experience things, so I can breathe, and live, and work, but they don’t understand that. And it’s killing me inside, that I hurt my mum by living my life as I want to live it.’ Shrugging helplessly, she let Misha draw her into an embrace.

He kissed the top of her head, his arms pulling her into him comfortingly.

‘I’m sure everything will work out in the end. You can always visit your mom and she can visit you. I travel a lot with my children and they love it. If you get the baby used to it from the beginning, you’ll probably have no trouble, raising a new nomad.’

Chuckling, Ren hugged him back, burrowing deep into his warm embrace, laying her head against his firm chest and listening to his calm heartbeat.

After indulging in his warmth for a few more seconds, she reluctantly let go of him and took a step back.

‘So. Um…’ He said, a bit hesitantly. ‘I’m guessing you’re staying with Ruth, now that you’re in Vancouver?’

She nodded. 

‘That’s right, but only until tomorrow morning. I have to be in Seattle, early tomorrow afternoon, for a work meeting, and I’m driving down there, so I’ll have to leave at first light, I think. Why?’

His expression peaked with interest at hearing her answer. She could see his brain working at light speed, when he processed her words, and came up with his reply.

‘Could I interest you in staying with me tonight, and departing from my house tomorrow? I live in Bellingham, just over the border, in the US, and Seattle is only a ninety minute drive from there… I... I’d really like to spend some more time with you, Ren.’ His gaze was both hopeful, and filled with dark promise. It caused an anticipatory shiver to travel down her spine.

She didn’t really have to think about it, happy that he seemed to feel the same way as she did.

‘Okay.’ Ruth would understand. Ren had been taking up her guest room for the last week, so, it wasn’t as if she abandoned her friend, immediately after her arrival.

‘Okay?’ Misha sounded surprised. ‘Just like that?’

Ren grinned.

‘Yes. Okay. Just like that. We’ll have to swing by Ruth’s to get my stuff, though, and because my van is still there. I’ll need that after I finish up in Seattle. But, um, won’t your children mind? Or your wife? I mean, I’m a total stranger…’ She knew about his open marriage from Ruth, and also about the divorce, which was just as unconventional as his marriage had been. Vicky and Misha still lived in the same house, and coparented their two children, successfully.

‘Ex-wife.’ Misha corrected her. ‘No, they won’t mind. They’re not at home. They traveled down to LA yesterday, by plane. I’m supposed to follow tomorrow, with the car. Quite the road trip. ’S gonna take me a few days. So, you have a van?’

‘Alright then, I guess, I’ll be going across the border a day earlier than expected. And, yes, I have a van. It’s been converted into a camper van. I’m going to be touring the US, in the coming months. I have two commissioned murals that need to be made, and some more business meetings, but apart from that, I’ll be going sightseeing, and hopefully work on a photography portfolio, that will be made into a book, which will be finished by the time the baby comes. I hope. Fingers crossed.’ The schedule would be quite tight, but if she pushed on, she’d be able to manage it in time.

‘Cool.’ Misha was quiet for a few seconds, visibly mulling something over. ‘So… As you’re already planning on touring the US, could I persuade you, to come with me on the road trip to LA? Or would that be too forward?’

Ren thought it over for a moment, and then mentally shrugged. LA was as good a place to begin her road trip, as any. And it would give her a few more days with Misha. Which was a definite plus.

‘I’d love to go to LA. I was going down that way anyway; I was thinking about seeing the southern states, while it’s winter, and then working my way back up north, to arrive back in Canada by the time May comes around. I hope you won’t mind taking a few detours on the way down to LA, though?’

He smiled, elatedly, visibly relieved that his suggestion was being received so well.

‘No, yes, of course. Detours are fine. I’ll just let Vicky and the kids know I’ll be away for a few more days, and we can be off as soon as you finish up in Seattle. So, what’s in Seattle?’

She swallowed, and decided this wasn’t the time and place, to let on that she wasn’t exactly a _starving_ artist. Artist, yes. Starving, not so much. Even Ruth didn’t know about her family’s wealth. They’d met after she got into art school, and because Ren was already living by herself by then, Ruth was easily kept away from meetings with Ren’s family.

She hoped she’d be able to convince Misha to explore Seattle on his own, tomorrow, while she was handling business, with him none the wiser when they met up again.

‘Oh, just some work related meeting that needs handling, before I’m off on my sabbatical.’ She said, noncommittally. 

‘Alright, shall we go, then?’ Misha took her hand, and together they walked to the exit of the building. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road to Misha's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing but this storyline and my OCs.
> 
> I make no money from this story.
> 
> This is my Sandbox. :)

**Chapter 5**

 

_ 7 December, 2016. Vancouver to Bellingham, USA _

 

It had taken them a bit longer than they’d anticipated to say goodbye to Ruth and the rest of the cast. The moment they’d stepped outside, Misha’s arm around her shoulders, they’d been received with a good natured ribbing by Jensen and Jared. Which was to be expected when one ran off to allegedly have sex, while the whole cast and crew of the show watched you go into an empty warehouse together.

After things had calmed down with the Supernatural cast and the filming of the current scene had resumed, Ren had been approached by one of the writer’s of the show, who’d enthusiastically asked her if she’d be interested in auditioning for a new character for the show; to be introduced at the end of the season, or at the beginning of the next, at the latest.

To which _Ruth_ had answered that _of course_ Ren was interested and she had then proceeded to pull both a flabbergasted Ren and a highly amused Misha toward the offline backup cameras, where they’d been instructed to act out a hastily written scene in front of a hastily setup camera. Which they did. While everyone who wasn’t involved in the filming of the current Supernatural scene, was watching. No pressure… Right. 

After the impromptu audition, she’d had to leave her contact details with the writers and was told that they would call her if she was deemed suitable for the role. She’d still been completely flummoxed by the sudden turn of events when she’d thanked the show runners and writers for the opportunity. As she had been led away by Misha, toward the group of actors who had by then finished with filming, she’d shook her head to dislodge the niggling feeling of surreality from her mind. What a strange life she lived.

At the announcement of their departure, there had been the bear hug goodbye’s and see you later’s from Jared, Jensen and Mark, and the teary goodbye, and hugs and kisses from Ruth. Ren knew she’d miss her friend terribly, but she’d promised to call often and visit again soon. After that promise, Ruth had let her go from the tight hug she’d wrapped Ren up in.

It had been over an hour and a half later -after exiting the warehouse building-, when they’d finally climbed into Misha’s car and sped off towards Ruth’s apartment, Ren’s head swimming with all the impressions and happenings of the past hours. How had she been pulled into the lives of these people so fast? How was it possible that she’d scored an audition for a part on this immensely popular show? She had been completely flabbergasted by that detail and had rubbed her temples to ward off the sudden tightness behind her eyes that was the sign of an imminent tension headache. The biggest part of the ride to Ruth’s, she’d tried to relax back into the comfy seat of Misha’s car; closing her eyes and willing away the tension that had taken up residence in her neck muscles.

At Ruth’s, Ren had quickly packed her things into her duffel bag and taken two paracetamol to keep the headache at bay. Then she’d locked up the apartment behind her, leaving the spare key in Ruth’s mailbox. 

Which brought her to now.

She and Misha were standing outside her van as she unlocked the doors and pulled open the sliding door, which was the entrance to her van living, cooking and sleeping space. Misha stuck his head into the van and hummed approvingly. Ren was sure that he was admiring the beautiful woodwork that was on the inside of her mobile house. 

She stepped up into the van, Misha following on her heels, and quickly gave him a tour of the tiny kitchen, decked out with a two hub gas cooker and a small washbasin with faucet, and of her bathroom. The latter consisted of a removable composting toilet which was located in a tall cupboard-like wet-room. It was small, but so was she, and she was able to shower comfortably if the occasion called for it. The back of the van consisted of a narrow double bed that spanned the width of the van, and which could sleep two people if absolutely necessary. 

At the foot of the bed, there was a small crib attached to the wall, leaving enough room for a person to put their feet underneath if they were laying down. In front of the bed, opposite the wet room, was a small built-in sofa for two -if you squeezed-, which doubled as a step up to the high up bed, with a small fold-out table that could be stored in a slot in the wooden van wall.

All in all, all available space had been utilised as much as possible, making the van the ideal home for a minimalist nomad as she was. 

Misha opened all the cabinets to peer inside and inspect the craftsmanship, and then proceeded to test the water pump by turning on the faucet for a few seconds. When that worked as expected, he turned it off and checked the safety valves on the gas canisters which were stored underneath the cooker, lighting one of the hubs when the gas connection met his standards; turning it off after another few seconds and checking for any gas leakage from the hub itself.

When he couldn’t find anything at fault, he hummed approvingly, again, and turned to smile at her, keeping his head slightly tilted to the side, because his six foot height was a bit too tall for the five foot ten inches high ceiling.

‘This was done by someone who knows what they’re doing. You’ve got everything you need in here… Except for enough headroom, maybe.’ He tapped the ceiling with his fingers and chuckled, before exiting the van, rubbing his neck to massage out the kink he’d gotten from standing under the low ceiling for too long.

Ren followed him to the door, but kept standing inside the van, grinning down at him.

‘Oh, I hadn’t noticed. Your head must have gotten too big from all that fame and all those fangirls fawning over you, because mine fits just fine.’ She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned sideways against the sliding door, raising a challenging eyebrow at him. 

Misha just grinned and shook his head at her trying to get a rise out of him. She could see that her sassiness struck a cord in him

‘You better watch out, little girl, or we won’t make it out of this driveway today.’ He threatened in a dark voice that sent shivers of anticipation down her spine.

‘Oooh, promise?’ She asked in a mock-breathless voice -though she didn’t have to work too hard to sound breathless-; fluttering her hands and waving cool air toward her face.

This pulled a laugh from him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her out of the van and in to him.

‘Cross my heart…’ He whispered as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

She made a disappointed sound when he ended the kiss almost as soon as his started and let her slide down his body, making sure that her feet were planted firmly on the ground before he let go of her.

‘As much as I want to make true on that promise, we have to get going if we want to make it to Bellingham before it gets dark.’ He tapped her bum lovingly and kissed her on the tip of her nose, ignoring her pouting at the short ass kiss.

Ren sighed and shrugged.

‘Oh, alright. _On y va_.’ She gestured for Misha to go to his car and closed the sliding door to the van, before walking around it and climbing into the driver’s seat.

She'd just closed the door behind her, when she noticed that Misha had followed her and was knocking on the window. She rolled down the window with a push on a button and turned to him, giving him a surprised look. 

‘What?’

‘If you want to stop while we’re on our way down, just flicker your lights, okay? Then I’ll pull in at the next parking spot.’

Ren nodded, grimacing as she felt her little one deliver a kick to her bladder, and grateful that she’d been to the toilet just before she’d locked up Ruth’s flat.

‘Sure. Might be a good idea to get a little rest in on our half way point. I might have to go to the loo at some point, anyway, with how busy the munchkin is being, at the moment.’ She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘So, how far are we driving today?’

Misha smiled up at her, her high vantage point from the cab of the van placing her line of sight just above his.

‘Oh, it’s just under fifty miles, or so. Not too long a drive. Maybe just over an hour, if we’re lucky at the border control facility.’

‘Okay, let’s go then.’ Ren leant out of the opened window a bit and stole one last kiss from Misha before ushering him off to his own car. She sighed wistfully as she watched him walk away and chuckled. ‘Man, I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.’ she muttered under her breath. She took her time admiring his confident strut and the way he filled up those jeans of his. She huffed another soft laugh at her own thirsty thoughts and started up her van by putting the key into the ignition and pushing a button. 

The engine sprang to life and purred happily. 

By now, she was glad that she’d chosen to buy a new van, instead of choosing one of the second hand rust piles she’d been eyeing initially. Especially with her road trip in mind. It wouldn’t do if she stranded herself somewhere in the desert while being very pregnant, just because she was too cheap and proud to use her trust fund money to buy herself a reliable car. 

So, she had compromised and convinced herself, over and over, that she had to think of the baby, while she transferred the sizeable amount of money to the van dealership. She didn’t have only herself to worry about anymore and taking responsibility for herself and her health, and, in extension, for the health of her unborn child, was the right thing to do; no matter how much it made her feel like a hypocrite to use the money from her trust fund after refusing to accept anything from her family for so long. She had always been proud of being able to make it on her own without any help, and to have to suddenly start relying on her family’s money… Well, it stung, deeply.

Misha pulled his car out of the driveway and Ren followed. As they made their way through the outskirts of the city, she had little time to ponder on everything that had happened over the course of the last few hours, but when they finally pulled onto the straightness of the Vancouver-Blaine Highway and the traffic became a bit more quiet, she was hit with the realisation of what a strange turn her life had made within the course of a few hours.

Earlier that morning, she’d just been minding her own business, spray painting some art on the side of a shed, and having plans for dinner with Ruth for the night, with a vague plan forming to maybe go dancing, after, and now she was on her way to the house of a man she very much admired, but hardly knew.

She loved how the flexibility she’d built into her life, and her impulsive nature, made it so much more unpredictable to figure out where she’d end up that night, or a week from now. It was the way she preferred to live. To not be bound to a certain place, or a certain routine, made life so much more of an adventure, in her eyes. Yes, sometimes it could get lonely, but she wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Ren rubbed her distended tummy in thought. She wouldn’t be alone for much longer, though, and Baby would need a slight bit of routine in life, in respect to naps and feedings, so she was going to have to slow down a bit after the birth. But she would take that hurdle when she came to it. 

Until then, she was determined to enjoy her last months of complete freedom. Starting with, hopefully, her road trip with Misha.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellingham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see. Busy life. Yadayadayada.
> 
> But I’m back... For now... :)
> 
> Don’t own anything but this story and my OFC.
> 
> Make no money writing this story.
> 
> This is my Sandbox. Yay!

Chapter 6

 

7 December 2016, Bellingham, USA

 

Two hours and two stops later -one at the border and one fifteen minutes after that-, Ren pulled up her van onto a short driveway next to a quaint, two storey house. She parked behind Misha’s car and hopped out of the driver’s seat, onto the grass lawn that was the front yard of the house.

The border crossing had been quite strenuous because of Ren’s visa only being valid for three months from one day later than when she and Misha drove up to the border. Thankfully, Misha had come to the rescue and had pulled some strings with the people he knew at that border crossing, due to him commuting to and from Vancouver on an almost daily basis. Sometimes it was pretty handy to have friends in high places. So, after an about forty-five minute delay, filled with a questioning and filling out lots of bureaucratic forms, Ren had been waved through customs and into the US on a twenty-four hour visa waiver.

Stretching her hands above her head, Ren pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes. Yawning, she shook loose her stiff muscles and jumped up and down a few times to get the blood flowing into her extremities again. She was still getting used to driving the big van, concentrating on keeping it on the right hand side of the road, and she’d noticed that it had her slightly tensed up behind the steering wheel every time she drove for more than ten to fifteen minutes at a time. She was sure it would let up in time, but for now it resulted in cramped muscles. Which wasn’t helped by her pregnancy hormones. Oh, how she longed for a lay down.

A soft groan escaped her as she felt one of her hamstrings protest when she took a step toward where Misha was exiting his car. Immediately, his attention was on her.

‘Everything okay?’ He inquired, sounding slightly worried. She must have made more noise than she realised.

Nodding to reassure him, she grimaced.

‘Just my muscles having a hard time getting used to sitting still for long periods of time. And those fucking pregnancy hormones aren’t helping, either. My thigh is cramping up.’

Misha closed the door to his car and locked it up before bridging the gap between them and picking her up bridal style. Ren let out a squeak in surprise.

‘What are you doing?!’

‘hmm… Just making sure RAAS doesn’t escape me once again. She’s a slippery one.’ He grinned down at her and gave her a light kiss on the nose.

An amused huff escaped her.

‘Don’t worry, I have it on good authority that RAAS is in no condition to climb any walls or scale any roofs at the moment.’

‘I’m not taking any risks with this, hon.’ His face took on a determined expression as he walked them towards the front door of his house. After she helped him open the door with his keys, because his hands and arms were full with her, he carried her over the threshold. ‘Welcome to my humble abode.’

Ren laughed as she looked around.

‘I wouldn’t exactly call this humble, Misha. It’s quite spacious. And has a lovely interior to boot.’

Misha inclined his head, his eyes crinkling with a smile.

‘Why thank you, fairy-girl, I appreciate the compliment.’ He pecked her on the lips and then carefully lowered her feet to the ground, keeping a tight hold on her until he was sure she was able to support herself.

‘So, how about I make us something to eat? What would you like?’ He asked enthusiastically; stepping away from her and walking into what appeared to be the kitchen. She followed him, looking around the house with interest. It really was a lovely home.

Pulling open a few cupboards, Misha peered inside, frowning, before he turned back to her.

‘Hm, it doesn’t look like there’s anything edible left. I wasn’t supposed to come back here today, and Vicky has made sure that there aren’t any foodstuffs left that can spoil during our absence...’ Closing the cupboards again, he clapped his hands together and raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Are you too tired to go out and grab a bite to eat? There’s some very good restaurants at the marina.’ He gestured toward the kitchen windows, where she could just make out the outlines of sailing boats against the twilight. Lights twinkled on the shore and inside some of the boats.

Nodding, she smiled.

‘Sure. I’d love to. I could use the stroll after sitting still for so long.’

‘Okay. What would you like? Steak? Fish? Pizza? There’s also a Greek restaurant, I think, but we’ve never gone there.’ He frowned in thought.

‘Ooh, can we have pizza? It’s been a while since I had pizza!’ Her face lit up at the prospect. Ruth had been adamant that she ate responsibly now that she was pregnant, and the woman had cooked her a meal every night she had been staying there. Which, in Ruth’s case, meant lots of veggies, and fruit, and fibers, and no fast food. No pizza. It was sweet, but Ren had been craving fatty foods by the time she’d been staying with her friend for four days.

Misha smiled.

‘Pizza it is. I’ll give you the tour of the house when we get back, then.’ He gestured to the front door, saying ‘after you...’, and laid a warm hand on the small of her back as he led her back outside and then down the drive. Somehow it wasn’t as cold in Bellingham as it had been in Vancouver, and her thick hoodie was enough to keep her warm. Well, that, and the arm Misha had slung around her shoulders as they walked down the road to the marina. The man had snugly pulled her into his tall frame, causing her to cradle his lower back with her own arm so she could walk more comfortably, and she could feel his body heat seep through his leather jacket and into her own body. Sheesh, he wasn’t just hot as hell, he ran hot as hell, as well...

Which was quite a funny thought when she took into account that he played an angel on a tv show. She chuckled softly at the thought and then shivered as her hormones once again went into overdrive when her thoughts went back to the afternoon on the set of Supernatural. Under her fingers, she could feel the hard muscles of his hip contract and release as he walked.

There was a hesitation in his step when he felt her shiver and he looked down at her, a frown on his face.

‘Are you cold? Should I go back for another jacket?’

Smiling a crooked smile, Ren shook her head.

‘Nah, I’m alright. Just... feeling a wee bit... hungry... and... _hungry_...’ She let her voice trail off and looked up at him, biting her lip, unsure if she was being too honest about her wants. Not usually being one to beat around the bush, she mentally shrugged away her doubts. Better to be upfront about it.

As she looked into his eyes, she saw how they darkened to a stormy dark blue-grey. He flicked out his tongue to give his lower lip a quick lick. Turning to face her, he effectively blocked her path and crowded her smaller frame with his large body. Ren swallowed and felt an excited tremor travel down her spine at the intensity of his expression. She was playing with fire, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

‘Careful, little girl.’ He rumbled, his voice sounding as if it came from deep in his chest.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she flashed him a mischievous grin.

‘Or what?’ She challenged, feeling breathless at the return of the sexually dominant side of him which she’d first gotten a glimpse of that afternoon.

He opened his mouth to retort when, suddenly, her stomach made itself known by letting out an ear deafening grumble. A blush creeped up Ren’s cheeks and she groaned when Misha’s expression changed and he let out a bark of laughter.

‘That was so _not_ how I imagined this conversation going.’ She lamented.

Misha pulled her into the side of his body, and coaxed her to walk down the pavement with him, toward where the lights of the marina flickered merrily.

‘Sustenance first, other... things, later.’ Chuckling at her disgruntled expression, he hugged her to him tighter for a moment. ‘What did you hope to accomplish just now?’ He sounded genuinely curious.

‘Well...’ She stretched the word. ‘My hormones and I were hoping for a thorough ravaging against that tree up there.’ She pointed backwards from where they’d come, with her thumb. ‘But, alas, it was not to be.’ She sighed dejectedly, rubbing her thighs together as they walked. It gave no relief to the perpetual arousal she felt while the man next to her was near. Although their ‘tryst’ from that afternoon had taken the edge off slightly, her body was so fucking ready for another round... or three, it was almost embarrassing. As were the completely soaked knickers she was wearing.

Looking back at the tree she’d pointed at, Misha raised his eyebrows.

‘Really? You want me to _ravage_ you up against that tree?’ He sounded flabbergasted. And maybe a bit intrigued.

Sighing whistfully, she shrugged.

‘The way I’m feeling right now, I’d probably let you shag me up against the windows of that restaurant there. Though it would be severely frowned upon by the patrons I’m sure.’ Winking at him, she continued, ‘And although I’m used to semi-public nudity, I think that it would be a bit much, _even_ for me...’

Shaking his head, Misha let out another laugh.

‘I really, _really_ like you.’ He said, sounding very amused, and pleased with that conclusion.

Snickering, Ren retorted immediately.

‘You really like the fact that I want to shag you senseless, you mean?’ She couldn’t help but tease him a bit.

Misha immediately backtracked and his face blanched when he realised how his words could have been interpreted.

‘Oh, shit, no. That’s not what I meant to say.’ He looked at her with wide eyes. ‘I mean that I like the way your brain works and how you say what you mean, without holding back, and without false pretenses... or false modesty. Add that to the brilliantly creative mind I’ve seen at work over the past few months, and the lovely package it all comes in, and I think I’ve found my own personal cryptonite.’

A smile tugged at her lips as she gazed up into his eyes, feeling simutaneously flattered by, and strangely emotional from, the praise.

‘ _Wow_... Good save.’ Her voice was slightly hoarse from the sudden storm of emotion that had welled up inside her. _Stupid hormones_.

He narrowed his gaze as he looked at her, his once again amused expression softening into something warm and tender.

‘I aim to please.’ He said quietly, and pressed a lingering kiss on her cheek, just at the corner of her mouth

Ren quickly turned her head and caught the tail end of the kiss, pressing her lips to his. Once again, they halted as Misha tenderly cradled her face in his hands and caressed the seam of her mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss when she parted her lips. She stretched up to her tippy toes and leaned into him, sliding her arms around his neck, enthousiastically reciprocating the passionate caresses of his lips on hers. He had manoeuvred her backwards into the shadows of a copse of trees and out of the light of the streetlights within seconds. Then he picked her up with ease; Ren immediately wrapping her legs around his hips as he walked her towards one of the trees and rested her back against it. Leaving her mouth slightly bruised and glistening, he traced her jaw with his lips and nipped at her neck, just below her earlobe, elliciting a small moan from her throat.

Once again, her tummy made itself known, loudly, and Misha shook with laughter as he snickered against her neck, causing goosebumps to form on her arms. Ren groaned at his amusement.

‘Is that how the baby makes its objections known about our delaying getting food into you?’ He looked up from where he’d been doing delicious things to her neck and flashed her a smile.

‘It must be, because that definitely is not at the top of _my_ list at the moment.’ Ren grumbled, her mouth pulling down in a disappointed pout at being interrupted yet again by her stomach. Though she had to admit that she was feeling slightly peckish by now. She sighed. ‘Alright, I concede, let’s get some food into me.’ Unlocking her legs from his waist, she allowed him to lower her down onto her feet again. As she slid down his body, she could feel the evidence of his arousal push against her swollen tummy. She grinned up at Misha. ‘And after that, I’d like something else in me.’

Misha’s eyes crinkled as he sent her a naughty grin of his own.

‘As the lady wishes.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, leave a note. Or kudos. The Muse loves kudos. ^_^


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